Closet Case
by PinkPantiesPrincess
Summary: Harry and Ron are convinced that Harry’s gay and Harry spends Christmas hols trying to convince them and himself otherwise. Smut-tastic ending. Harry/Draco. Not really canon.


Title: Closet Case  
Word Count: 3349  
Summary: Harry and Ron are convinced that Harry's gay and Harry spends Christmas hols trying to convince them (and himself) otherwise. Smut-tastic ending. Harry/Draco. Not really canon.  
A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble. Yeah. Not so much. But it was fun to write. Dedicated to Clara Devine.  
Disclaimer: Sadly, I still don't own Harry and Draco.

It was their first day of Christmas hols when Hermione and Ron cornered Harry in the sitting room at Grimmauld place. He was just so glad Ginny had been sent to stay with Charlie for the hols that he'd didn't even notice their determined looks as they closed in on him.

"Harry," Hermione said gently, "we just want you to know we will support you in any way."

"Wha-?" Harry began, looking confused.

"No need to lie to us, Harry. We understand that this is who you are and we just want you to be happy," Ron interrupted him.

"What? I don't understand. What are you two talking about?"

"Really, Harry. We understand and won't judge you." Hermione had her supportive look on her face.

"I think maybe your brains have been curdled by that skunk urine you guys call coffee. Seriously, what's up with you two?" Harry was truly perplexed. Hermione was being unusually vague and Ron was making even less sense than usual.

"Harry, we know you're a homosexual and we just wanted you to know that we are behind you one-hundred percent," Hermione finally said plainly.

Just then Draco, who had defected to their side at the beginning of the school year, entered the room. "Behind him? Was that pun intended, Granger?" he said with a smirk.

"Get lost, Ferret!" Ron barked angrily.

Harry, finally snapping out of his disbelieving trance, said, "But I'm not gay, 'Mione."

"You don't have to hide it from us. We are comfortable with your alternative lifestyle choice." Hermione was smiling now, like she'd just won O's on all her O.W.L.S.

"Yeah, mate. We're cool with it."

"But…I'm not-you've got it all wrong," Harry tried to say.

"If it makes you feel any better, I believe you, Potter," Draco drawled.

Harry's eyes were as wide as saucers, his mouth gaping wide open. When Draco's smirk got wider, Harry promptly snapped his mouth shut and glared at Draco. "Get off my side. Immediately."

Draco laughed the first _true_ laugh Harry'd ever seen from him. Harry's eyes glazed over and he covertly checked his mouth for drool. A more beautiful sound he'd never heard! Harry snapped out of it quickly with shock. "No, I don't like your laugh," he cried.

"What, Potter?"

"Oh. Did I say that out loud?" Harry said, blushing, appalled with himself.

Draco just chuckled and flitted gracefully from the room. Harry had to stop himself from drooling again. What is wrong with me! he snapped at himself. He shook it off and looked at Ron and Hermione, who were looking at him with creepily identical, knowing expressions on their faces. "I'm not sure where you two got this idea that I'm a ponce, but it's not true. I mean, I'm into girls. And quidditch. None of that nancy fashion shite that Malfoy's into."

Draco was openly gay. He'd outed himself at the same time as he'd pulled a turncoat and joined the side of the light. The fashion thing wasn't really a new bit though, as Draco'd always been a bit snobbish about his clothing. Really, the only difference was that he could be spotted making out with Blaise Zabini or Zacharias Smith quite often. Homosexuality didn't really bother Harry, but he'd never even envisioned himself with another guy. The idea seemed truly absurd! I'm not gay, Harry thought. Am I?

Harry stalked out of the parlor and spent the rest of the evening dodging his two best friends, and sneaking glances at an amused looking Draco.

At dinner Harry spent an uncomfortable thirty minutes trying to ignore Hermione's sex advice. Not that he didn't appreciate that she was trying to be helpful, but he just wasn't in the need for _that_ kind of help.

Harry went to bed earlier than usual to try and escape from his enthusiastic friends. No matter what their intentions, he wasn't sure he could spend even another five minutes listening to Hermione's explanation of how to do a self-enema.

When Harry woke up in the morning, the first thing he noticed was that he had made a small mess during the night. He blushed as he groped for his wand and cleaned his sheets.

After showering and getting dressed, Harry spent ten minutes trying to get his hair to lay flat. It was no use, of course. His hair had a mind of its own, and it seemed to like the "just-out-of-bed look" best.

At breakfast he couldn't avoid Hermione's direct questions or Draco's still amused demeanor, but as soon as breakfast had been concluded Harry raced as fast as he could to his room where he took refuge for the rest of the day, only coming out for meals.

Regardless of his non-appearance in the house, little notes written in Hermione's handwriting and "helpful" books kept showing up mysteriously in Harry's warded rooms. Hermione was sometimes too bright for her own good.

When Harry went to bed that night, he felt exhausted. He didn't know how he was going to spend another 14 days couped up in a house with his crazy friends and the seemingly perpetually amused Draco Malfoy.

The next ten days went about as well as the first two. Harry continued to wake up with either a little mess on his sheets or an embarrassing hard-on. Though he had panicked a bit on the 8th day when he realized he'd just gotten off thinking about Malfoy's blonde hair and thin, delicate hands, he reassured himself that it was probably just a weird sexual phase that he was going through. It was nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.

He still couldn't avoid Ron and Hermione at mealtimes, but he'd taken to reciting all the charms he had learned so far that year in his head and he could usually ignore the worst of the things they had to say to him. Hermione hadn't given up on the books either. Or the astonishingly embarrassing notes that she kept somehow getting into his room no matter how many wards he put up.

There _had_ been the dinner that Hermione had somehow managed to smuggle some very explicit diagrams into the dining room. Harry'd nearly choked on his turkey sandwich. Draco'd snorted milk from his nose (earning him the nickname Lord Milknose from Harry and the twins who seemed to be the only people who really talked to Draco). Mrs. Weasley had nearly gotten them from Hermione, but no matter how much older the kindly woman was, Hermione was one of the cleverest witches ever, and she'd managed to get rid of it in time. Harry'd still been mortified and it hadn't helped that Draco was still looking amused.

Bedtime was the only peaceful time Harry had, yet it was almost the time he feared the most; a time when he would have no choice but to hear his own thoughts. And sometimes, he honestly hated his thoughts.

Waking up on the 13th day of hols with a hard-on, Harry'd just sighed and padded across the hall and into the bathroom. He locked, warded, and soundproofed the room before climbing into the shower. The cold water seemed to do little to discourage Harry Jr., so Harry decided to just give himself a hand (dirty pun intended) and get it over with. Ever since he'd gotten off to images of Draco in his mind he'd been reluctant to masturbate (which Hermione had tried to convince Harry was unhealthy and stressful, though how she knew that he wasn't masturbating was beyond him).

Harry reached for his aching cock with a small amount of trepidation. He tried to call to mind his memories of Ginny, and when that didn't work he tried Cho, Fleur, and even Hermione. He brought to mind all the images he had of any woman short of Petunia and Minerva, but nothing. He sighed in frustration and hesitantly brought forth memories of Draco's glorious, silky hair and carefully manicured hands. He felt a strange tingle in his core and continued this line of thought as he tugged and pulled at himself in a near-frenzy. He leaned against the walls when a wave of pleasant dizziness hit him and gave a small cry as he imagined Draco's immaculate, little hands doing this to him. He was spiraling rapidly into an earth shattering ending. His hand sped up and he held onto the safety rail for dear life. He cryed out loudly as he shook violently and came. When he was completely spent, he had to wait a couple of minutes to catch his breath before he could clean himself up. He made sure there was no evidence of what he'd done and then washed up and got out.

He felt confused as he dressed. A couple of days ago he could have told anyone that he was a hundred percent sure he wasn't gay in any way. Now here he was, having a one off with his hand in the shower with the image of Draco haunting his thoughts. Maybe he wasn't gay. Maybe it was something different….like Malfoy-sexual. He didn't really feel an attraction to any other men.

Dressed, Harry made his way downstairs, still lost in his own thoughts. He absent-mindedly loaded his plate and didn't even notice that Hermione'd somehow smuggled the diagrams back into the dining room without alerting Mrs. Weasley.

If he really did like Malfoy like that, then how far back had it gone? He'd always been somewhat obsessed with Draco. Ever since their first meeting in Madam Malkin's. Sure, he hadn't always been obsessed with Malfoy in a happy way, but Malfoy had always had a center place in his thoughts. He was also always hyper-aware of where the blonde boy was. Harry proved this when he looked up as soon as Draco came through the doorway into the kitchen.

Draco still looked amused, but he seemed satisfied this day as well. He joked with Fred and George as he sat down, and winked at Harry when he caught sight of the diagrams again. He was wearing a plain, black pair of trousers that seemed to mould right to the curve of his arse perfectly. Over a white, cotton tank top he wore a standard, white, long-sleeve button-up. Harry admired the way Draco's hair hung just perfectly, shining like gold. He held the knife he was buttering the toast with like it was a delicate instrument, his fingers caressing the smooth silver. Harry held back his desire to hop across the table and molest Draco's fingers with is mouth.

He pushed back from the table quickly when he realized where his thoughts had taken him and ran to his room as if chased by a banshee. He slammed the door behind him and threw up as many wards as he could squeeze out of himself. He threw himself face-down onto the bed with a groan of frustration.

Okay, he thought to himself, there's a possibility I'm gay. Possibility? He snorted. I'm absolutely flaming. Flaming for Malfoy. There's probably a club for that. Turning over onto his back, Harry contemplated Malfoy the Enigma-Coated Wonder.

"Malfoy is cute," he made himself say. "Malfoy is cute," he said, with more conviction this time. "Malfoy is cute, Malfoy is cute, MALFOY IS CUTE!" He yelled the last part, unaware of his audience.

"I'm glad you think so, Potter."

Harry yelped and sat up. There was Draco, leaning against the door like he owned the place. His dark grey eyes gleaming in a predatory way, his lips twisted into a familiar smirk.

Swallowing hard, Harry flopped back onto the bed. "I think I'm gay," he finally said.

"Well, yeah," Draco returned.

Harry snorted. "I thought you said you believed me. Back in the parlor when we first got here."

"I believed that you thought you weren't."

"How nice for you. I hate you."

"Really?"

"No. Just making sure I can still say it."

Draco snickered, and a couple seconds later he was standing next to the bed Harry was laying on. "Scoot over," he commanded. Harry scooted until his hip was almost touching the wall and Draco lay down next to him with his arms behind his head. "So you think I'm cute. Doesn't mean we have to get married. Doesn't mean we have to do anything."

Harry squirmed around a bit.

"Unless you want to."

"Want to what?" Harry said with a blush.

Draco sighed loudly. "Fool around."

Harry's face was completely crimson. "And if I wanted to."

Draco turned his head so he could see Harry. "Look at, Potter."

Harry turned his head. "What?"

"Did you mean that?" Draco asked, looking serious.

Draco swore Harry's face got even redder. "Yes," he all but whispered.

Draco just stared for a couple seconds, then his face split into a grin. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this." He ignored Harry's look of astonishment and reached for the other boy's hand. Lacing their fingers together, he said, "Would you like to try something tonight?"

"Sure. Yes," Harry said his face still red as a beat. "Wh-what would we try?"

Draco scooted over. "Whatever you like. Could-could I kiss you?" he asked, showing the first sign of uncertainty he'd ever shown Harry.

Harry's breath hitched in his chest. He swallowed hard again. "I think I would like that," he replied.

Draco smiled a real smile before pulling himself up into a sitting position and leaning over Harry, holding himself up with one hand placed on the other side of Harry's head. His other hand was in the other boy's hair, stroking and gently pulling. He leaned in even closer, touching his lips to Harry's for the first time. Their lips moved together for a time when Draco started licking at Harry's lips, begging entrance. Harry opened his mouth and Draco's tongue inside it had an immediate reaction. His hands shot up and he grabbed the front of Draco's shirt in a death grip. Draco smiled and Harry thrilled at the feeling of it against his lips.

It was another twenty minutes before Harry released Draco's shirt. Mrs. Weasley had called everyone down for dinner, though Harry wouldn't have noticed if Draco hadn't finally pulled away and said something. They smoothed their hair and clothes and went downstairs for dinner.

Harry had a hard time acting normal though dinner. He was unprepared for how happy he felt. It didn't help that Draco kept sending him little smiles across the table. After they ate, Harry excused himself from the table to go to bed early. No one was surprised as it had been the norm the last few days. Draco sent him one more smile before he'd escaped.

Once in his room, Harry changed into his nicest pair of jeans, something Hermione had bought him, and a clean shirt. He didn't bother messing with his hair, but he cleaned his hands, put some deodorant on, and ate a stick of gum. Then he sat on the bed to wait for Draco, checking the clock constantly, trying to will it to be ten already.

Eventually Draco showed up, wearing his pajama bottoms and nothing else. He smiled at Harry and said, "Nice shirt. Take it off."

Harry gulped, but quickly stood and removed it and threw it over a chair. "Hi," he said nervously.

Draco grinned and quickly there was no space between them. Harry gasped at the first touch of warm skin against skin and his hands buried themselves in Draco's hair. Draco kissed him as enthusiastically as he knew how, his long, slender fingers gripping Harry's hips in an unyielding grasp. He pushed Harry down onto the bed and maneuvered them into the middle of it. Straddling Harry's legs, Draco pulled away and looked down at the dark-haired boy, who was breathing hard and had a beautiful blush from his chest, up.

"You're beautiful," Harry said with uncertainty. Draco's answering grin had him squirming.

"I know." Draco began licking and nipping at Harry's neck. "So – nip – are – lick – you." Draco's mouth reached Harry's clavicle and he laved with his tongue and teeth as well. He made his way down Harry's chest slowly, delighting in each little noise Harry made. He particularly savored the sound he'd made when Draco'd dipped his tongue into the boy's belly button, and filed it away for use later. When he got to the buttons of Harry's jeans, he stopped and looked up at Harry inquiringly.

Harry's breath was labored and he felt as hard as a rock. He felt overwhelmed, but in a good way. He could guess what Draco had planned and he nodded his acquiescence.

Draco opened each button with small, deliberate motions, grinning the whole time. He slowly, torturously pulled the pants down Harry's legs, having the boy lift his arse and thighs so he could get them all the way down. He did the same with Harry's boxers and grinned at Harry devilishly.

Harry's face felt very warm as he sat up and leaned back on his elbows. He gasped loudly when Draco pushed his legs apart and began stroking his face against Harry's inner thighs, deliberately brushing against Harry's cock. Harry nearly choked when Draco finally took him in his mouth. Draco's lips were shaped in an O form, his cheeks slightly hollowed. Harry swore and his head dropped backwards as Draco took a swipe at the little vein on the underside with his tongue. Forcing his head back up, Harry looked down just in time to see Malfoy put two fingers in his mouth as well. When he pulled them back out again, Harry had a pretty good idea what Draco was going to do with them (just because he didn't like that Hermione kept getting things into his room didn't mean he hadn't read some of them before tossing them). As Draco's fingers began massaging his hole, Harry's head dropped back again. His breathing became harsh and short as Draco's fingers slowly entered him. Harry whimpered at the feeling of his cock in Draco's mouth and Draco's fingers buried in his arse. He could feel himself getting closer and closer; a slow burn that he'd felt earlier in the shower. Then Draco did something, he was pretty sure it'd had to do with his prostate (Hermione'd told him about that as well), and Harry was screaming and he was trying to warn Draco that he was going to come.

Draco ignored Harry's warning except to grin and tighten his lips around Harry's cock. A little bit escaped and ran down his lip and onto his chin. When Harry had finished, Draco pulled away, licked what he could reach with his tongue, scraped the rest off, and then popped that finger into his mouth.

Harry watched wide-eyed and was about to say something when suddenly the door was thrown open and five Weasleys and Hermione were standing there, wands drawn. As soon as they realized that the source of Harry's scream was not a vicious death eater (per se), Ron quickly closed the door.

"Harry, mate," Ron yelled through the door, "I know we said we were fine with you being gay and all, but that didn't mean we wanted you to go find the first man willing and shag him!"

Harry could hear Hermione hushing Ron and the rest of the Weasleys and her going back to bed. He looked over at a smirking Draco Malfoy. "What?"

"I can't believe you forgot to put up a silencing spell and locking spell. I wish I could see Weasley's face right now," Draco said, lying back with his hands behind his head like he had been earlier.

Harry laughed too and went to the dresser to find a pair of pajama bottoms. He pulled them on with a smile, as Draco cat-whistled. His face was red when he turned around. "So I reckon I should tell Hermione and Ron I'm gay," he said with a smirk to match Draco's.

Draco laughed and threw up a silencing spell and locking spell.


End file.
